Thick Love (Thin Love, #2)(18)

“Oh.” Then that smile went megawatt. “Oh, well that’s good.” Dad slapped my back like I’d done sacked five quarterbacks. “That’s excellent.”

“It doesn’t feel excellent.”

“Why the hell not?”

When I didn’t answer, just sullenly studied the toy truck that Koa had given me, he said in a low voice, “Ransom, you can’t keep punishing yourself. You were a kid. It was an accident.”

“Please. Don’t start with me.” I didn’t want to hear it.

I was getting ready to tell him to forget everything, pretend that I had even mentioned a girl, but then the front door opened and Leann called a quick “I’m here,” and I jumped to greet her before my father could say anything else.

Leann gave me a distracted kiss on the cheek and I caught the small, white bags she shoved into my arms and followed the whirlwind of a woman as she marched into the living room.

She greeted Mom with kiss when she’d finally made it back from the bathroom and pulled Koa into her arms before Leann offered my father a nod. Then, she turned on me. “Too busy to answer your phone?”

God that woman was loud.

“Didn’t hear it.”

When mom shook her head and reached for the bag in my hand, Leann moved her toward the dining room table. “Sit down, Keira. I’ll fix you a plate. You can have your lunch then rest.”

“You’re not hungry?” Mom asked.

“Big breakfast. Besides,” she said moving her head toward the kitchen before she inhaled, “I’m not really in the mood for one of your classic southern Sunday lunches. No roast for me,” she said, waving my mother off as she handed the baby back to my father. Leann zipped around the room like a firecracker. Our cousin had more energy than even me most days. “Relax,” she said to my mother and nodded to me as Dad and settled Koa into his high chair.

Leann did this, always—bossing, supervising, until everyone around her was settled.

Today was no exception and we all watched her move around us, directing me to dole out plates, set up dishes on the table until lunch was underway. Until Leann’s incessant questions, “Keira, where’s the laundry detergent?” and “Kona, you didn’t fix that shelf?” had my father kicking Leann out of the laundry room and away from his To-Do list.

“Sit,” he told Leann, as he maneuvered her next to Mom at the table, then he helped Koa out of his high chair.

Leann seemed incapable of not fidgeting, keeping her foot in a constant bounce. But that was Leann. She had two sons and hundreds of dance students. Her days were hectic and she never seemed able to slow down.

When Leann’s phone rang and she pulled it from her pocket, my mom smiled at me, sending me a look that told me she was happy her cousin wasn’t bouncing around the room anymore.

Now that things had quieted down a bit, Mom tilted her head, her eyes sharp as she looked me over; I could feel the interrogation coming. “Everything okay?” She leaned forward, reaching for my hand across the table. “What’s going on with you?”

My mom was the strongest person I’d ever known, having raised me alone on nothing but determination and with the help of a couple of good friends. Then, against the odds, she went on to build a career with a kid in tow. Now she had to contend with being in the spotlight; not just her career as a Nashville songwriter, but Dad’s very public persona as a retired football superstar and new defensive coach at CPU, all while juggling a toddler and another on the way. She didn’t need the burden of my f*cked up head or the stupid shit I couldn’t seem to let go of, too. So I said what came naturally—something slightly rude, and sure to make her laugh. “It’s all the girls, Mom. They all want me and it’s just so exhausting.”

“Ugh.” Mom’s dramatic disgust was almost as funny as how hard she slapped my hand away from hers. “You are so full of it.”

“That’s genetic,” Dad said in passing, as he moved from the kitchen to the playroom, where sounds of toddler-ish destruction had suddenly arisen.

Mom’s mock disgust had Leann’s attention on her and our cousin tilted her head, frowning when my mother leaned against the table. “You look so tired.” Leann swiped the bangs off my mother’s forehead. “I wish you’d consider hiring a babysitter.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Mom said, brushing Leann’s hand away. “Like I told you last week when you first started nagging me,” Mom’s mock glare at her cousin had Leann snorting, “I’m perfectly capable of taking care of everything on my own.”

“You’re swollen again,” Leann said, drumming her fingers on the table. “Worse than you were with Koa or Ransom. I’m worried that it’s preeclampsia.”

“Remind me where you went to medical school.”

“I’m serious, Keira.” Leann ignored my mother’s eye roll, but still laughed at her attitude. Mom did look more exhausted than she had just the week before and all that lunch prep made her ankles look a little sausage-like. “Part of the time at least,” Leann suggested.

“It’s not a terrible idea, a babysitter.” I avoided my mother’s glare, knowing she probably wouldn’t appreciate feeling like we were ganging up on her.

“It is,” Mom said.